


•U•p•r•i•g•h•t•

by LissomTea



Series: Of Tarots and Dragons [1]
Category: The LEGO Ninjago Movie (2017)
Genre: AAAA, AAAaaaaAAAAAAaaaAA, Also known as, Angst, Dragons are cool, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Mommy Issues, Py is a useless homo with magic card powers, Slow Burn, Trust Issues, and magical spirit things in this universe, boys loving boys, its my book and I get to decide how superpowers work, oof, past suicidal tendencies, py has mommy issues, the villian can top me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:42:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23159485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LissomTea/pseuds/LissomTea
Summary: With the wind in his hair, and the feeling of his bloody flannel hitting his wound, Py was sure he was dying.Or at least, he was sure he was going to die.He had been stabbed.More or less.He managed to keep the small ninja star stuck in the wound.His father told him to keep it in, so he wouldn’t lose all his blood.But, it hurt.His eyes slowly opened.Right.He was falling from a nearly fifty story building.So, as the sidewalk seemed to get closer, and roar of the dragon mech came closer.With his friends shouting out his name in horror.His father tried to calm down terrified citizens.He wondered..How exactly did he get here?Oh right.A box of tarot cards.
Relationships: To Be Added ;)
Series: Of Tarots and Dragons [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664785
Kudos: 5





	•U•p•r•i•g•h•t•

With the wind in his hair and the feeling of his bloody flannel hitting his wound, Py was sure he was dying.

Or at least, he was sure he was going to die. 

He had been stabbed.

More or less.

He managed to keep the small ninja star stuck in the wound.

His father told him to keep it in, so he wouldn’t lose all his blood.

But, it hurt. 

His eyes slowly opened.

Right.

He was falling from a nearly fifty story building.

So, as the sidewalk seemed to get closer, and the roar of the dragon mech came closer.

With his friends shouting out his name in horror.

His father tried to calm down terrified citizens.

He wondered...

How exactly did he get here?

Oh right.

A box of tarot cards. 

______

It was mid-April when his father told him the news.

April 15th to be exact.

Or was it the 19th?

Py couldn’t remember by now. 

They were moving.

It was a cliche move.

A small-town boy moves into the big city.

But as far as Py was concerned, this was _no_ movie.

Life was just as boring as that cheesy, slice of life animes that _every studio makes_. 

Py’s life was pretty normal to say.

He had a loving father.

He wasn’t ugly.

He wasn’t attractive either.

He had a few hobbies.

He went to school.

All of that.

So, when his father said they were moving to _Ninjago City_.

The _home of everything abnormal_.

Py was...well he wasn’t sure how to feel.

He fought with his father.

Obviously. 

And the car was silent. 

For a little while at least.

______

“Are you _sure_ you don’t want to stop somewhere?”

“No,” Py replied, turning towards the window again.

Since Py’s walkman had died, he didn’t have anything to do.

Reading comics would make him car sick. 

And he didn’t have any music on his phone. 

(And he wasn’t entirely sure _where_ his phone was anyways. He was always misplacing that thing.) 

So, he just chose to watch the places outside.

Which had turned from a vast forest, dessert, and now, various highway roads. 

He sighed deeply, unbuckling his seatbelt.

“Hey-! What do you think you’re-” His father began.

“The car isn’t moving,” Py replied quickly, attempting to squeeze himself into the back seat. 

His father shook his head.

“You looking for something?” 

“Uh...blanket.”

“The box closest to the left door.”

“With the red tape?”

“That’s the one.” 

Ripping noises.

Py appeared back in the front seat, with a purple quilt in hand. 

His father, Hernando smiled lightly.

“Your mother made that for you when you were a kid.” He said, rather softly. 

Py wrapped the blanket around himself.

“Cool.” He muttered, snuggling close to it. 

He chuckled.

“It smells like cookies.” 

“She made a lot of those too,” Hernando replied. 

______

Py had fallen asleep around 3:00. 

With that soft music playing in the background, and the sound of crickets chirping in the distance, and the all too _familiar and annoying whispers in one of the boxes_ , filled the air. 

Hernando was thankful his son couldn’t hear them.

 _Yet_.

His ex-wife’s voice seemed to taunt him.

_Yet._

Hernando thought back to that moment.

His ex-wife wanted to give Py the tarot cards at age _six_.

And he had said no.

And then one thing led to another.

And she left.

The whispers seemed to get louder.

Hernando turned around and slammed his fist on the box.

“Quiet.” He hissed.

Nothing at first.

And for a second, he thought they were actually going to be quiet.

But no.

His wife’s tarot cards began to whisper Py’s name again. 

Hernando’s grip on the steering wheel got tighter. 

They said it again.

With that, Hernando harshly turned onto the side of the highway, the city lights were up ahead.

He climbed out of the car and slammed the door shut. 

Walking to the back of the car, he grabbed _the box._

Ripping it open, he began to speak.

“You know what, you can whine and _bitch_ all you want,” He stated, pulling out the box wrapped in parchment paper. “You will _not_ lay a hand on my son.”

Hernando gripped the box tightly, despite the whispers beginning to get louder as he walked towards the edge of the highway.

“You will not be ruining anybody else’s lives.” 

For a moment, Hernando hesitated.

This was the only thing he had left of his wife, after all-

Hernando shook his head.

That didn’t sound like him at all.

So with that, Hernando pulled his arm back and chuckled the box into the dark space below.

He felt satisfied when he didn’t hear a crashing noise.

Like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

So, with that, he climbed back into the car, and drove off.

Silently hoping he’d never have to see those cards again.

But he was wrong.

So wrong.

Because by now, the parchment paper was being burned away by purple flames, and a young boy with his hair tied into a bun had just stumbled upon it. 

  
  
  
  
  
  



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